Recounting the history of his judicial career, Judge Paul Egly speaks with a passion that remains even in retirement. Judge Egly served as founding dean of the University of La Verne College of Law. / photo by Zachary Horton

by Elsie Ramos
photography by Zachary Horton

He grew up during the Great Depression, fought on the front lines in Germany and France during WWII and has seen 15 presidents get elected; he has gone from lawyer, to judge, to college founder. Judge Paul Egly has seen it all, and although he says his 91 year-old memory lacks some sharpness, he still tells stories like they happened days ago instead of decades.

From war to the bench

“It was nice to know we got through the war without dying,” Judge Egly says in the plural, but that is all that he will say about his time on the front lines. The memories seem painful, “It was a long time ago, and I prefer not to go there.” As the war wound down in Europe, Judge Egly, who served five campaigns, was presented a choice to remain in Germany or continue fighting in the Pacific. “I didn’t want to go to Japan, so I decided to stay in Germany,” and that is where he got his first taste of being an attorney. Judge Egly worked with German attorneys for a year and opened his first practice in occupational law. He helped people facing challenges between German law and U.S. occupational law. “That was interesting to do for about a year, but then it was time to come back home to California,” Judge Egly says. Back home, he resumed his history graduate program at the University of California, Los Angeles. Judge Egly laughs at the memory of realizing that maybe law school was a viable option. “One day I met up with a friend, and he told me he was going to law school. I told him ‘You can’t get into law school with a history degree,’ and he said, ‘Oh, yes you can.’ So in that moment, I decided I wanted to go to law school. My very first day at George Washington University, I knew that it was for me. After that, I didn’t have an intention of wanting to do anything else, except be a lawyer. I loved it.”

Following law school, Judge Egly returned to California and opened his first United States practice in his Covina hometown, then an orange grove covered area. “My first partner was a good lawyer and woman named Prudence Thrift. We would take anything that paid the fees,” he says. “It was different than it is today. The kids today pick the kind of law that they want to practice. In those days, people expected you to know what you were doing regardless of the kind of case. It was fun. There was a case that came in at four in the afternoon,” Judge Egly recalls with a chuckle and a smile. “A woman wanted a will, and I had no gas for the car ride home. She asked me how much I would charge her, and I said $2. In that time, gas was 17 cents a gallon, so that $2 got me far.” Judge Egly also helped criminals who could not afford attorneys. “I didn’t make any money, but I enjoyed every minute of it.” After 10 years of practicing California law, Paul Egly made the leap and became Judge Paul Egly in November 1963.

The questions continue, and Judge Egly recoils. “You’re asking a lot of questions to an old man whose memory has faded,” Judge Egly says. The playfulness and joy from his voice fades, and sternness takes over, as he recounts the case that made him, as he says, “the most popular four-letter-word in the Los Angeles area.” The affable Paul Egly disappears, and the judge comes out. His hands are folded, resting on top of his stomach. At first he has trouble speaking. His eyes are closed, so the light does not irritate his eye sight, afflicted by macular degeneration. Finally, he gathers his thoughts, lets out a sigh and asks, “Do you really want to hear this story?”

Crawford vs. LAUSD

The story is one where Judge Egly desegregated Los Angeles’ schools with a sweeping ruling. In 1961, Mary Ellen Crawford tried to enroll in South Gate High School but was denied because the Los Angeles Unified School District Board’s policy did not allow student integration. Crawford traveled farther to get her education because of her skin color. In a lawsuit filed against the LAUSD, her parents stated that the school district had discriminated in attendance boundaries, which created a dual school system based on race. In 1954, seven years before the Crawfords filed their lawsuit, Brown vs. Board of Education was implemented with the intention of ending public school segregation. The desegregation effort had not made it to California or to many other states.

Forward ahead to May 12, 1970, when Judge Gitelson, presiding judge of the Los Angeles Superior Court, concluded that LAUSD was segregated, and that Mary Ellen Crawford was entitled to relief by a mandate that required the school district to desegregate. “This judgment was a sonic boom heard all over the county,” writes Judge Egly in a 2010 article in the University of La Verne Law Review. Legal maneuvering ensued, and “during the six-year period between the appeal of Judge Gitelson’s order and the California Supreme Court’s decision, the case hid itself from public view,” writes Judge Egly. But it landed February 1977 on Judge Egly’s docket. In those 16 years, Judge Egly says that race relations had changed, which made the cases tougher to rule on. “It was the wrong time,” he says. “The NAACP and ACLU were too slow to get the case going.” He says when he received the case, the majority of Caucasians had moved away from the South Gate area. What was once the majority race, had turned into a minority. Judge Egly admits that he was not too familiar with the case when he got it, but this was the kind of case that could not be turned down. “What could I say but, ‘yes,’ ignorant as I was about what I was getting into?” Judge Egly writes. “I knew it would be difficult, if not impossible, to satisfy all the parties or enforce the mandate.”

Judge Egly realized that the case was going to be very controversial. “With 600 schools and 600,000 students geographically, it was going to be hard to come to a conclusion.” Judge Egly attempted to educate the public on the case, but he soon realized that the public did not fully support it. “I understood at that point I had better get back on the bench and be a judge, and it would be up to the parties to educate the public in their efforts to oppose or promote desegregation efforts,” Judge Egly writes. “I came to the sad conclusion that it simply was not my job to act as the self-appointed public relations politician.” The trial was set for March 23, 1977, just one month after he received the case.

He says he had trouble keeping up with the neutrality of the case. “It was very emotional. The whole thing was emotional. Why should we differentiate people who are poor and rich, when it comes to education?” Judge Egly says with passion and conviction. “Aren’t they entitled to the same public education? The children shouldn’t be denied because their parents don’t have a lot of money. It’s not their fault.”

After more than a year of court dates, appeals, expert opinions and backlash, the case went to the U.S. Supreme Court. It ruled with Judge Egly and stated that the LAUSD was ready for desegregation. Busing began on Sept. 17, 1978. “I used to get lots of hostile mail, and I thought it was necessary, as a public servant, to answer each of these letters,” Judge Egly writes. “At least 95 percent of the mail was against busing and the ‘dictator’ who required it. I still do not really know why I took the case at all, except I believed in the principles of Brown.”

Still reluctantly explaining the Crawford decision that marked his place in legal history, Judge Paul Egly would rather discuss the future as it involves students at the La Verne College of Law. / photo by Zachary Horton

Founder and professor

In between hearings and witnesses, Judge Egly served as founder, professor and dean of the University of La Verne College of Law. The Crawford case anointed him as a public figure. Despite this, he says, “I enjoyed nothing more than teaching.” In the late ‘60s, then La Verne College launched the concept of off-campus extension centers, central to most universities today. President Leland Newcomer wanted La Verne to be more than just a small liberal arts campus nestled at the base of the San Gabriel Mountains. Judge Egly was enlisted to help the University grow, and with his experience at the California College of Law in West Covina, he became the founding dean of the University of La Verne College of Law in 1970.

“I did everything, and they didn’t know what to do with me,” Judge Egly says. “I was the dean who said, ‘Yes, you can come,’ ‘Yes, you can be an instructor.’ I interviewed all of them, every damn one of them.” Judge Egly taught constitutional law, his favorite subject as a student and professor, for 36 years. “It’s like a blossom blooming into a flower, seeing them begin to understand the cases,” he says. “You enjoy it with them; you learn with them and try to make it more interesting.” He tried to stay away from combining his life as a Los Angeles Superior Court Judge and a professor. He says he spoke to his students about Brown vs. Board of Education but never about Crawford vs. LAUSD.

The Law School had a rough beginning; it was a night school only for the first five years. It did not have full-time faculty, it did not have its own library, and Judge Egly did not even have his own office because there was not enough funding for it. “The Law School gave the University a hard time,” he says. “It was not an easy relationship with the University. We wanted more. We needed more.”

The College of Law still does not have an easy relationship with the University. In spring 2011, it lost its provisional American Bar Association Accreditation and had to pay millions of dollars to make concessions and re-apply for provisional accreditation status. Included in the accreditation mandate is the charge to significantly increase its Bar passage rate. “You have to have a high Bar rate,” Judge Egly says. “If you don’t, then that’s a problem. I hope it makes a comeback. I trust that the Board of Trustees and the president feel the same. Maybe it will break away, but I hope not because that would be bad for both.” Judge Egly says that all major universities have signature colleges that heighten the foundation school. “UCLA has its medical school, and USC has its own law school,” he says. “Without the College of Law, there is no University of La Verne.”

Judge Egly says that the Law School also is of great importance to the Inland Empire because it is the nearest one for almost 40 miles. With a somber tone and a deep breath, he says, “Either they come together, or there will be many without a job, but we’ll know pretty soon. I would always do things differently than everybody else.” His somberness fades and happiness enters, as his best friend, wife of 28 years and what he calls “the luckiest thing to ever happen to me,” enters the room accompanied by their two dogs. “Janey, do you remember any former students turned into judges? ‘I’m sure there are quite a bit,’” she responds. “Between you and me, I’m sure we taught them all,” he laughs. “They let me talk for too long. They should have cut me off five years earlier; I couldn’t stop.” His speech sometimes slows as he searches his memory, and the pauses between words increases as he keeps to his high level of judicial accuracy, but he does not let fatigue, diabetes or macular degeneration stop him from leading a busy life. “On his good days, he remembers cases, names, and dates,” Shannon Bishop, his three-year administrative assistant says. “He’s like a Rottweiler that won’t let go. He’s just as hungry for the law as he was 30 years ago.”

As the marine layer that covers Laguna Beach begins to burn off, and the Pacific Ocean comes into view, the sun shines over the deck he built single-handedly, highlighting the rose bushes and hydrangeas he and Shannon planted. Shannon helps Judge Egly down the stairs to his den, but it is not to rest. Where most 91 year-olds would be ready for an afternoon nap or lunch, Judge Egly has work to do. “We have to check the email,” he says. For a man who does not care about his legacy, Judge Egly has left an imprint in the lives of many. From the Europeans he helped during WWII, to the woman who needed a will at four in the afternoon to the many law students who looked to him for guidance, Paul Egly will have a legacy, whether he cares or not.

Whether in a courtroom or his backyard, Judge Paul Egly emanates a commanding presence founded on strong professional pride. / photo by Zachary Horton

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by Brianna Means
photography by Jessica Harsen

An ever-present figure at the University she loves, Wendy Lau steps onto the porch of the Hanawalt House, one of the many places she calls “home.” In addition to a flourishing legal career and involvement with Phi Sigma Sigma, Wendy serves as the Board of Trustees representative on the Alumni Advisory Board. / photo by Jessica Harsen

Never tell Wendy Lau to get a life. She has at least three. Wendy juggles her career as an attorney, University of La Verne Trustee membership and national and local leadership with Phi Sigma Sigma. Wendy explains her charity with her life mantra: “To those who much has been given, much is expected. Giving back is not an option, it’s a thank you for all the good things in my life.”

As an undergraduate La Verne transfer, Wendy was known as the model honors program student, majoring in English, super committed to the mission of La Verne and involved in multiple arenas of co-curricular life. She left the University of California, Irvine because she felt that she was not gaining a true college experience. Friends’ recommendations brought her to La Verne where she quickly became extremely involved in campus life. Wendy became a marquee debate team member, was a leader in the Phi Sigma Sigma sorority (originally known as Phi Theta Chi on the La Verne campus), was nominated to the Honors Program, served as a Leadership Education and Development participant, led as a Orientation Week Leader and helped create the La Verne Collegiate Panhellenic Association (CPA). “After becoming involved in the debate team, I met some girls from Phi Theta Chi and was convinced to join the local sorority. Shortly after, we decided to become a part of the national sorority Phi Sigma Sigma. Since we were the second national sorority on the La Verne campus (after Sigma Kappa), we joined forces to create a CPA for La Verne,” says Lau.

Ironically, Wendy says joining a sorority was not first on her life list. “I was told by Claudia Jimenez and Christina Hernandez, Phi Theta Chi alumnae, that there was nothing to lose by trying, and I couldn’t beat that argument. So I accepted the bid and ended up loving the experience, and all the sisters I met.”

“We call the time before Wendy joined the sorority her dark days,” says Claudia Traver, fellow Phi Sigma Sigma alumna. “She would wear rock t-shirts and jeans with sneakers. You would never catch Wendy in a pair of heels or skirt.” Now, Wendy dresses to impress every time she steps out of her house. She credits her emphasis on achievement and giving back to her Phi Sigma Sigma membership; she encourages her active sisters to do the same. As an undergraduate, she served as philanthropy chair and president (archon) for Phi Sigma Sigma. Wendy never left active status with the group. She serves as national director for the Supreme Council of Phi Sigma Sigma; previous she served on the Phi Sigma Sigma executive board and as La Verne adviser. “Being on Supreme Council is a huge responsibility; it’s essentially the equivalent of serving on the board of directors for a company,” says Wendy. The Supreme Council is responsible for the policies and business decisions of the national fraternity.

“Sororities and Fraternities are the organizations that grow the kind of people companies and organizations want to hire. These are the training grounds for the type of people you want in your community.” She feels her sorority involvement helped make her the person she is today. “I am not concerned with the future of America as long as there are Greeks. The skills you gain from sorority or fraternity transfer to real life. I am a better public speaker and listener because of my Phi Sig experience, and this makes me a better advocate and attorney. Being in a sorority, not the glamorized version you see in movies and television, means adhering to academic excellence, leadership and community involvement.”

“Wendy was and remains someone I consider one of my best friends,” says Tanya Orr, founding sister of the La Verne chapter of Phi Sigma Sigma and Recreational Coordinator for the city of San Dimas. “She was a bridesmaid in my wedding, and I still see her at least three times a week.”

University of La Verne

Her sorority life was balanced with her active academic endeavors. Based on her high entrance grades and SAT scores, Wendy joined the Honors Program. “I graduated with English departmental honors, and I was something like a hundredth of a point shy of graduating summa cum laude,” she remembers. “I’m still bummed about that!”

Once a Homecoming princess herself, Wendy Lau pauses to congratulate sorority sister and 2012 queen Zulema De La Torre. Lau founded the University of La Verne’s Phi Sigma Sigma chapter and remains an active alumna as a Supreme Council director of Phi Sigma Sigma Sorority. / photo by Jessica Harsen

The door to her debate involvement opened with an introductory class. “I joined a debate class which piqued my interest in debate, so I joined the debate team. I took Bob Rivera’s—may he rest in peace—speech and debate class, loved it, and ended up on the debate team.” Rivera, ULV professor of speech, inspired her, she says. Wendy traveled with the team to competitions. “I met some of the brightest smart-asses I know through debate, and I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

Her active La Verne involvement extends to the present day. She is a Board of Trustees member and a member of the Alumni Governing Board. Previous, she was on the search committee that selected President Devorah Lieberman. Other Board leadership commitments include the bylaws committee and the West Campus development committee and the search committee for the College of Law dean. “Wendy is one of the people who changed the Alumni Governing Board, making it more organized,” says Chris Braunstein, member. “Wendy is well respected and gives much of her time and energy to it.” She was recruited to the Board about five years ago by college friend Paromita Nag and has served as the Board’s vice-president, president and ex-officio member. She is also chair of the Board Development Committee.

On the La Verne Board of Trustees, Wendy leads as alumni representative. “I have the same voice and vote as any regular nominated and elected Trustee and, like Supreme Council, am legally bound to make decisions and act in the best interests of the University.” Wendy’s goals for the Board are to ensure the perpetuity of the University, provide a positive learning environment for the faculty, staff and administration and to have La Verne be a nationally recognized institution of higher learning. “Serving on the Board is an amazing experience because not only do I get to give back to the University, I also get to meet and work with some incredibly impressive people.” Wendy sees positive University improvement with the new president’s leadership. “President Lieberman brings her positivity and energy to the University while staying on top of things. She shares the values of the school and lives them every day by being a role model for the students and pushing herself to be better.”

Law career

Following La Verne, Wendy matriculated at Pepperdine University School of Law to gain an entertainment law degree. There, her involvement mantra continued as a law review member, a student mentor, a legal research assistant and as a teaching assistant. She twice won high awards for Best Petitioner’s Brief in the Vincent S. Dalsimer Moot Court Competition. Outside of school, she managed two bands: “I3Lush” and “The Almighty Grind.”

She is now an attorney for the law firm of Wood, Smith, Henning and Berman LLP, a civil litigation firm with more than 100 attorneys in 12 offices in five states. Wendy works primarily in construction litigation, defending and representing national homebuilders.

Service is at the forefront of her legal career. Since 2008, she has served on her firm’s senior council as both the charity and recruitment chairs and also mentors other law firms. “I generally talk to my mentees to help get them acclimated to our firm and answer questions about projects they are working on—time management and best practices. Phi Sig taught me that giving back is how we say thank you for our blessings.” The recruitment committee includes three attorneys who oversee and organize the firm’s charity work, including its adopt-a-family program for Thanksgiving and Christmas and the Susan G. Komen 5K. The committee selects law students for positions as summer law clerks. In November, she headed the men’s health awareness campaign, aimed at prostrate and testicular cancer awareness.

Wendy is paid through billable hours, which gives her a great deal of time flexibility, allowing her to balance her personal and career-oriented lives. She holds committed to the leadership words, “We’re all given the same 24 hours each day. It’s up to us what we do with them.” Says Wendy, “The people who accomplish amazing things do not necessarily do so because they are smarter or better, but because they make the best use of each and every moment they were given instead of wasting it. Besides that, I love what I do.” She says she is thankful for having a supportive network of family and friends. Wendy’s parents live in West Covina, a sister lives in Pasadena. “My parents learned how to text awhile ago, so it’s not unusual for my mom and dad to send me texts and photos throughout the week.” She also makes time for her boyfriend and friends. “My schedule is typically pretty hectic, and I am usually running from one thing to another most days, but I don’t think I’d have it any other way. It’s to the point that I’ve got dates on my calendar through October of next year. I love it, though, because I have so much to look forward to!”

Telling the story of University pride, Alumni Advisory Board members (from left) Wade Worthy, Julie Sanchez-Alvarez, Wendy Lau, Monserrat Cruz and Alex Lester connect with other alumni during homecoming weekend. Wendy graduated from the University of La Verne in 1998 and says the Alumni Advisory Board helps her remain connected to her alma mater. / photo by Jessica Harsen

Wendy’s success advice

1. Do your homework. Whether you are applying to grad school, interviewing for a job or meeting someone in your field, it’s important to know the facts. It shows you care if you take the time to learn something about the school, the company or the person ahead of time.

2. Mind your manners. There is no substitute for good etiquette! Send thank you notes when someone takes the time out of her day to write you a letter of recommendation, meet with you or interview you. E-mail does not count. A handwritten, heartfelt thank you goes a lot further than you’d imagine.

3. Pay attention to detail. Proofread, proofread, proofread! Have someone else review your resume and cover letter. Practice your interviewing skills. Have a great handshake, not a limp fish.

4. Make sure your actions mirror your words. It’s important to have values congruence. That includes not only how you behave in person but also on your social media and behind closed doors. Your character matters.

5. You only get one chance to make a first impression. Make sure it’s a good one.

6. Learn to hustle! The most successful people I know understand the importance of hard work and networking. There is no such thing as luck except the kind you make for yourself by being better prepared and more willing to work than the next guy.

7. Have a positive attitude and count your blessings. When you have a good outlook on life, you’re better able to see the possibilities instead of the obstacles.

8. Be flexible and adaptable. Life will throw you curve balls. The test is how you handle them.

9. Be kind.

10. Pay it forward.

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Riding a bike only a commuter would love, Scott Jones, senior liberal studies major, pedals a two-mile ride to campus with Colin Wheatly, junior photography major. / photo by Zachary Horton

by Karo Chakhlasyan
photography by Zachary Horton

The polyrhythmic beat of a chain clank against a chainring becomes louder as a student comes up behind walkers on the sidewalk near the Barkley Building. The pedestrians feel the wind of his presence and the sound of crunching leaves as he weaves around them, inches to spare between curb and walkers. He is going the wrong way on the sidewalk, wears no helmet and keeps his cool despite being unsteady on his machine. Welcome to the University of La Verne’s fledgling bike culture.

Two wheels are becoming the new norm for students and faculty at La Verne, born of necessity as parking tightens and people navigate travel distances that cover the University’s east to west one-half mile span and north to south .3 mile traverse. The distances are causing students to seek out means of travel between classes, dorms and sports venues.

Cooper Durrette, business administration major, and Scott Jones, liberal studies major, are both water polo players who ride to school every day and navigate between campus and practice on their bikes. They own “old school” bikes that have been painted several times plus bikes “worth a few paychecks” but “well worth it,” says Durrette. Their trek from Pomona begins at the pale light of dawn for 6 a.m. water polo practice at Las Flores pool. “There’s no on-going cost to it; we’ve got the legs for it. It’s our means of transportation, more than anything else,” Durrette says. Following practice, they ride the mile to school and go to class. Their bikes are usually locked outside classroom doors.

The bike culture has swept in the casual user along with the serious aficionado. Dion Johnson, director of the ULV Art Department galleries, shared his biking passion by starting a University bike club spring semester 2010 that featured organized rides. The club phased out with the graduation of the founding members. Nevertheless, for Johnson, his bike is utilized more than for entertainment and socialization. As often as he can, he uses it to commute to La Verne from his home in Pasadena. “Being a member of Greenpeace and being aware of environmental issues, I think it’s very important to bicycle as a practical means of things as much as possible, so that’s really important to me.” Johnson cites safety being at the top of his concerns. He has attended Pasadena City Planning meetings geared to bike lanes; he sticks to bike routes where traffic is calmed or sparse; he offers advice for night riders: ”If I cycle at night, I want to be lit up like a Christmas tree. I tend to wear bright colors and have lights if I’m riding at night, and that’s well in your best interest.” He frequents Coats Cycling and trusts them implicitly.

Corey McCroskey, owner of Coates Cyclery at Towne Avenue and Foothill Boulevard, has been in the bike industry for more than 25 years and has dealt with cyclists who just need a beach cruiser to guys looking for the “persona of being an athlete,” with high end road bikes. McCroskey grew up in the area and has seen the change in the roads and traffic patterns. Knowing where the safe routes lie and the safest time to ride, he sponsors regular rides out of his shop. “We wait for everyone; we don’t drop anyone,” he says. His advice: “If you are going east to west or reverse, use Bonita Avenue. I’d stay off Arrow Highway. It is pretty treacherous near Fairplex.”

Cruising with caution

Bike riding does come with its cautionary tales. Many La Verne riders can relate traffic stories where their lives were in danger. A study by the University of Michigan Transportation Research Institute suggests that drivers in Los Angeles kill or harm bicyclists at significantly higher rates than drivers nationally.

The statistics are personal for Jonathan Reed, University of La Verne dean of the College of Arts and Sciences. About 20 years ago, he was hit and run over by a car. The accident left him in the hospital for eight days. “There wasn’t anything I could have done; it just turned in front of me,” says Reed. Nevertheless, the accident did not break his passion for cycling. He continues to ride 50-80 miles a week but now with a wary eye. He believes safety starts with driver awareness and actions around cyclists. “I still on occasion will see drivers who are overly aggressive toward bicyclists and not being considerate.”

Al Clark, associate vice president of academic affairs, long a commuter, recounts his own close call. He was riding close to the curb when he encountered a driver hunting for a parking place. Suddenly, the car made a right without signaling. Clark locked up the bike’s brakes but still slamed into the car. He went to the emergency room but fortunately did not sustain a lingering health problem. “Drivers are looking for headlights, not little blinking lights on a very slow moving platform,” he says.

The cities of La Verne and Claremont recently have invested grant money to quiet traffic on Bonita Avenue from four lanes to two and have added a wide bike lane to encourage and accommodate bikes. In its proposed 2014 or 2015 budgets are city of La Verne plans to improve road conditions, says Daniel Keesey, director of public works, city of La Verne. As a cautionary note, he says bicycles are usually the last thing to get budget attention. For Reed and Clark, this is not good news, since they both use local transportation corridors to commute to Claremont. Clark peddles 4.2 miles one way to the University; Reed traverses about 5.2 miles one-way. Clark says he arrives at work after 15 minutes of peddling on his trail bike, and it takes 20 minutes to go home. For Reed, on his road bike, his ride home is usually never a straight shot. He partners his commute with his triathlon training and sometimes takes Wheeler Avenue north to Golden Hills Road east, turning south on Esperanza Drive with a left on Baseline Road to ease home. “You clear out your mind, and you get home feeling refreshed,” he says. If he does decide to ride straight home, Reed zips east on Bonita Avenue.

Dude, where’s my bike?

The pain coming from your empty wallet might not be physical, but strong emotions are stirred with the loss of a bike. Bike prices range from swap meet cobbled versions to top of the line sleek machines: translated, $100 to $10,000. According to the 2011 Jeanne Clery Act Report from the University, since September 2012, six bikes have been reported stolen. Five were related thefts—someone with a backpack and a small set of bolt cutters sniped lock cables says Jeff Clark, associate director of Campus Safety. The thief has since been apprehended by the La Verne Police Department. Close calls abound. Art major Jourdan Simmonds suspects that someone attempted to steal his bike in the same fashion. He saw cuts on his bike lock, which caused him to invest in a more sturdy U-Lock, the same lock that Campus Safety Officers use for their Smith and Weston bikes. Clark also says to lock a bike to a rack. “Believe it or not, people will leave their bike locked to nothing.” Campus Safety officers routinely take bikes—locked to themselves or unlocked—to the lost and found to prevent possible theft.

Free from no parking signs and tickets, junior Colin Wheatly and senior Scott Jones secure their bikes before heading to class. The two are part of a growing number of students who use two wheels to commute. / photo by Zachary Horton

In the University’s effort to earn a Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design certificate for the Vista La Verne Residence Hall, officials installed 30 covered bike rack spots east of the building in October. The installation took some effort, explains Raymond “Chip” West. In an office filled with more than a dozen blueprints in a holding box, the senior director of central services and capital planning explains the bike rack delay on contract juggling between two manufactures mixed in with the quest for city approval. In the past five years, West says he has seen the bike culture at the University grow significantly. Just in the past two years, he has doubled the number of bike racks on campus. He cites the increase to parking challenges, to the recent growth of the number of people living on campus and to students and faculty seeking alternative means of transportation.

The University offers Rideshare Program incentives for employees that pays bikers $2 a day. Sports Science and Science Pavilion showers and lockers are there for the asking. Clark brings two days’ worth of clothes at times due to his large locker. “I mean, I’ve had a locker here for 35 years, and that means I’ve had a big locker. The first locker you get you can barely fit your helmet,” says Clark. He says that in 1890 the local area included many bicycle clubs. “It was either horses, you walk, or you get a bike.” Young people would join these clubs and use bicycles as a toy to show off like a “motorcycle or hot little car.” Perhaps it is no different now then it was back in 1890, with the huge advancements in mechanical rotation, but now the wheel completes its turn. “Everything kind of comes full circle,” says McCormick. “The newest thing, the fixed wheel kids, they are a new generation discovering something old. And that kid could be the next professional cyclist. Getting kids on bikes is really what we should do.”

Bike vs. Car: Which is faster?

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Moving with one mind, partners Carl Decker and Sam French construct a precise argument. The pair took first place in the Dec. 2 University of California, Davis Debate Tournament. / photo by Mitchell Aleman

by Lauren Creiman
photography by Mitchell Aleman

Thirty pairs of solemn eyes peered out from freshly scrubbed faces, their conservatism and maturity betrayed by the tightly pressed lips that held back youthful smiles. These men and women crowded together March 11, 1912, to take a photograph, one that would document a historic day: the Lordsburg Academy’s first public debate. Of the 30 gathered there, 14 members were women, who debated whether capital punishment should be abolished in a time when they did not have the right to vote on such a matter.

Exactly 100 years later, students, staff and alumni of the University of La Verne gather to honor the legacy of their program and to debate the very same topic, which remains as controversial now as then, recast as California Proposition 34. Over a century, La Verne Debate, with some dips and turns, has nevertheless remained as a viable University program; in recent years, it has established itself as a national, even emerging world class program.

A complicated history, untangled

The modern era of debate started in 1981 under the curriculum design of the late Robert Rivera, who is known within the Speech Communication Department as the “contemporary father of La Verne debate.” Rivera came to La Verne following early retirement from Los Angeles Valley College. He was recruited by La Verne Communications Department Chair Esther Davis, former head of the L.A. Valley College Communications Department. Rivera entered La Verne with the full support of University of La Verne President Armen Sarafian. Soon, his teaching talent and the administrative resources of performance scholarships started to pay off with student trophies.

Rivera, an ardent Toastmaster and former community college theater director, quickly brought attention to his fledgling La Verne program. Under his La Verne reign as director of forensics, La Verne Debate qualified for the National Debate Tournament for the first time in 1988 and competed in the World Debating Championship in Oxford for the first time in 1993. Press releases recount heady days of beating Harvard, Yale and the Pomona Colleges in debate. “Bob was the first person to take the program in a different direction,” says Ian Lising, current speech communication department chair. “He was the first to push La Verne to compete with the ‘big boys,’ as he put it.” Before then, Ian says, the team had only competed regionally and had no national or international presence. “The team’s invitations to Worlds in Oxford in 1993 was a turning point; we owe that all to Bob. One way that we’ve honored him is by making sure that we haven’t missed a single Worlds since.”

The shining era of Rivera was dimmed in the years following his leadership. Although several revered debaters were recruited during that time, the program nonetheless gained a reputation that negated much of Rivera’s hard work in bringing prestige to the program. “Bob stepped into a teaching role and did not have direct contact with the debate team. The Communications Department resorted to hiring part-time debate directors, with mixed results,” says George Keeler, present day communications department chair.

The Speech Department separated from the Communications Department in 2000 and opened a new major under the leadership of Department Chair Jeanne Flora. Keeler says one of his last acts for the debate team was the hiring of Ian Lising in 1999. “I knew that Ian was going to turn the program around,” says Keeler. “His credentials were stellar, but more important, he had a superb ethical compass.”

As it turned out, Lising took the helm and did more than just sustain the program; he led it to new levels of excellence. “I was brought on board to usher in a new age and culture,” Ian says. “I understood three things: First, seemingly irreparable damage had been done to debate’s reputation with the administration, students, team and the debating community at large. Second, we didn’t have a big name for ourselves in the debating community. Third, I came from my own successful background; when I was at Ateneo de Manila University, we were consistently ranked in the top five teams. I wanted to make sure La Verne was identified as a success in their own manner.” Ian’s resume speaks volumes about his accomplishments, but it is his character that is key to his success. He is soft-spoken and reserved upon first impression; a man of high morals and unfailing determination, not exactly what one expects from a debater. Yet, in a debate or speech scenario, Ian becomes a different man; a dynamic scene-stealer who speaks with conviction and often shocks his audience with an extreme stance. A paradox of a man, Ian embodies the kind of spirit needed to take La Verne Debate to the next level.

Just one year after he joined the La Verne faculty, La Verne Debate was a grand finalist at tournaments in Oxford and Cambridge and made it to the grand final at Worlds in Sydney. “The first time we broke at Worlds is among my most treasured memories,” says Ian. “The buzz that was going around the University and how the team handled themselves…everything I hoped for our culture to be was beginning.” Alumnus Nathan Baca, a CBS 8 News Now reporter for KLAS Las Vegas, debated with La Verne from 2000-2003. Fondly, in typical debate style, he recalls a slightly different memory. “One of our teams went up against Oxford’s best debate team, on their home turf, and we won the round. That moment dispelled any myth of invincibility of the other major colleges. We could go head-to-head with any university and do well, due in part to the fact that ULV had enough faith in us to send us in there to do it and succeed.”

The team has accumulated a collection of awards and trophies that would make an honor student envious; yet, debaters and coaches alike emphasize that building that collection is not the team’s ultimate goal. More treasured are their memories, which tell a greater tale of La Verne Debate’s progress than any trophy can possibly reveal.

Such is Ian’s story of the moment he knew “La Verne had made it.” “I was at an Oxford tournament in 2001. La Verne had been doing very well. I remember overhearing a conversation between two debaters from different countries; I believe one was Irish and the other was Scottish. I heard one ask, ‘Where is this La Verne?’ and the other one immediately responded, ‘Oh, it’s 30 miles east of Los Angeles.’ That was the moment I knew we had put La Verne on the map,” he says. “But then, a few years later at Worlds, a debater from India turned to an Australian and asked, ‘Where’s Claremont?’ to which the Australian responded, ‘Oh, it’s by La Verne.’” This moment is remembered fondly by Ian, for it marks La Verne’s transition from a relatively unknown school in the international debate realm to being the compass by which other schools are placed on a map.

Director of Forensics Rob Ruiz led as student debate captain before he took the helm. Rob earned his undergraduate degree at La Verne and earned accolades on the debate team shortly after Ian took hold of the program, serving as its captain from 2003-2004. He played an instrumental role in the team’s success during those years, Ian says, adding, “another key moment of my debate career was at a National Championship semifinals. Rob and his partner Josh Martin were in that round debating eco-terrorism. I even remember the motion: ‘This house believes humans should have the right to kill other humans to protect other species.’ Rob and Josh went so hard-line in their position that it shocked everyone, and they won based on that.” This shock factor is simply part of his style; Rob, who holds his own as easily among administrators as he does his debaters, tends to speak more directly than many of his peers, with a dynamic quality that leaves an impression on those who hear him.

Things came full circle for Rob in 2011 when he was named director of forensics after Ian assumed department chair status. Nathan, Rob’s partner in his first debate tournament in 2002, says, “It was great being on the team with him, and to see how much he has grown since then…he had such drive and jumped full-in to what he was doing. It was very heartening. It’s great to see the program in capable hands.” Since 2009, Rob has served as a part-time faculty member. He says he was thrilled to succeed Ian. “Ian believes that debate can create people and draw out their untapped potential. It was his vision to make debate, which has always been so exclusive, merge with the rest of campus. When I took over, there were only about eight or nine debaters. Now there’s approximately 37. The program is growing because of Ian’s vision; I’m just helping to carry it out.” It is a vision Rob carries out with help from John Patrick, professor of speech communication and an alumnus of ULV and debate. John, who has served as the team’s coach since 2009, says of debate, “Anyone can do it. It’s part of human nature; pros vs. cons, right vs. wrong…most already have debate skills because they do it all the time. They probably just don’t realize it.”

The reward of hard won honors came when Rob and Ian received proud news that the University of La Verne won the bid to host the 2013 National Debate Championship this spring. The process was exhausting, Rob says, and had been in the works since he became director of forensics. “It’s a great honor for this program after how much we have struggled, and it will really cement our presence in the debate community.” Such prestige has drawn vocal and physical support from President Devorah Lieberman, herself a speech communications major, which is something that Rob says is key to the continued success of the program. “With President Lieberman’s support, the sky is the limit for what we can accomplish.” Rob admits that the team’s recent boom results from more than just administrative support. The program, he says, has become more structured. The team now practices three or four days a week and through the entire summer to prepare its debaters. “The only months we don’t practice are January and June. We’re ingraining the idea that debate isn’t just extracurricular, but a part of everyday life. Some of our debaters even teach the lectures in the debate class to cement their knowledge of the practices. These things are small improvements, but they are instrumental to the continued success of the program.”

Natalie Holland, sophomore communications major, says that making sacrifices is par for the course. “I have had to dedicate a lot of my time to debate and have had to adjust my schedule and social circles to accommodate debate practice and debate life. There’s also a certain level of stress associated with debate that can weigh me down from time-to-time. But I’d say that the stresses of debate are only present because I love it so much.” Form and speech ability aside, a fundamental requirement for debate success is thorough current event knowledge. La Verne keeps its debaters fresh with new programs. A faculty lecture series is held every Thursday that allows faculty to teach their areas of expertise or interest. An “issues” tournament will start this summer, focusing first on women’s issues. The program is also attempting to establish its presence in the research world. “Our goal is to make La Verne the source of information about our format,” John says. Students, such as Carl Decker, senior biology and speech communication major, and faculty alike are working on publishing research papers. “We want to be synonymous with producing knowledge about debate, and we’re on our way,” John says.

The debate culture defined

More important than the awards earned and even the memories made is personal development. Rob and John, like Ian, want debate to be an experience that influences students after they trade in classrooms for corporate offices, more like a cultural identity than a membership to a club. “We’re trying to translate what we do here into civic duty and life in general,” Rob says. “Yeah, it’s cool to win tournaments, but what can you really do with that?” Like a true debater, John adds, “If we invest in the right students in the right way, we can take them from selfish young adults to selfless, community-oriented, engaged people. That’s really what this is all about.”

Carl also sees debate as a vehicle to achieving results of grander proportions. “Thanks to debate, I have had my faith restored in people’s abilities to change who they are,” he says. “Debate put me back in a place where you talk about people whose lives matter. By having to research these things, you become connected, and these issues matter to you on a personal level you could never have anticipated.”

Ian acknowledges that success still matters to the program, but the debate spirit reigns supreme. “We’re truly a Hollywood story in that we came out of nowhere into this national and international arena where we took everyone by surprise. This has created an expectation of great success among the debaters, so we have higher standards for ourselves now.” However, the mindset that results from debating is what really matters, says Ian. “We have a basic philosophy for our program: we look at the spirit of La Verne debaters for what they can be, instead of what they think they are. As a general rule, if you think yourself to at least be at someone’s level, you’ll work twice as hard to make yourself better.” Nathan Baca cites his involvement with debate as a foundation for his post-college success in broadcast journalism. “What’s it done for me? Well, it helps in arguments with my wife,” he jokes. “Seriously, though, debate gives you a global perspective—not only do you actually visit the world, but you learn how to make and understand arguments from all perspectives. Debate is perfect for every other class and major; it broadens your horizons and encourages you to be more curious. It’s the perfect interdisciplinary study.”

Though Carl has only been part of the team for a year, he says, “Debate makes you a better person. The more you know about the world, the better decisions you can make about it. The argumentation and form is just the show; after a certain point you’re changed, and you’re just an actor in this larger story. It’s f***ing great.”

ULV debater Carl Decker calls an opponent’s POI to hear what she has to say about his comments regarding the Western involvement in the Middle East. Decker placed fifth out of a total of 32 teams at the World Universities Peace Invitational hosted at the University of La Verne’s Sneaky Park. / photo by Mitchell Aleman

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As fierce in death as in life, a saber- toothed cat skeleton commands respect and space in the small Edmund C. Jaeger Museum. The space includes small rodents, birds, jungle cats, sea creatures and four additional saber-toothed cat skeletons. / photo by Hunter Cole

by Christina Collins Burton
photography by Hunter Cole

Using all his weight, Robert Neher yanks open a third floor Mainiero Building door. The sound of warped wood rubbing against its frame mercifully ends; startingly, ahead is a well-lit room full of display cases housing precious artifacts. Bob, a seasoned professor of biology at the University of La Verne, immediately walks back to the west wall toward a display case filled to the brim with a cornucopia of stones—all sorts of stones, pink, purple, spiked, smooth. He fiddles with the electric plug to get the case lit. Suddenly animals, all stuffed, pop into view along the case’s wall. They stare blankly out at the collections. With only two isles dividing the collections (one partially blocked by a large safe, itself holding a precious basket collection), the space resembles more of a storage room than a museum. Bob is one of the few persons who knows where everything is. The valuable collections— shells, birds, baskets, minerals, bones—are held out of sight in the Edmund C. Jaeger Museum. Most are donated—from professors and persons outside the University. All contribute to research efforts. The Jaeger Museum itself is not really that—it lacks display qualities. With its one window on the south wall and flickering/buzzing florescent lights, the collections are locked in time, waiting for their moment.

Entering guests are watched over by a prominent photo of Jaeger, placed above the door. A bleached dog skeleton, given by one of Bob’s anatomy students, greets you at the door. Each artifact has a story, including this one: The Collie met its end with a car; Bob kept the over-achieving student’s class project. To the left, large birds of prey and two cranes leer out from a glass display case, their last expressions posed permanently in an “out-for-a-hunt” way. “All of them were collected humanely of course,” Bob assures guests who ask. A huge California Condor is perched in the corner space by the window, forever about to take flight. Because of how endangered the species is, the sight is a rare one. Its procurement history is only whispered about. Not only rare and beautiful collections are stored here but also antique calculators, scientific equipment and the iPads that the department uses for teaching.

Hidden away from the world

The original museum started as a teaching space in Founders Hall with only a few pieces used to facilitate classes. Edmund C. Jaeger, an American biologist, saw this and wanted the University to open a full museum to house the collections of professors and

donors alike. “It’s such an incredible resource the University already owns,” says Kimberly Martin, professor of anthropology. “We are committed to community engagement, and it’s a way to provide access to prehistory, natural history and cultural history for people in the community and for our students—if we just had the space to actually show and use it for classes.”

When the Mainiero Building was under construction, Jaeger donated money to help develop a teaching museum open to not only the sciences, but also the rest of the campus. His money went toward filling the space with the appropriate display materials to best show the pieces. The museum opened in 1967. However, as collection donations came in and space became precious, the Jaeger museum quickly became a science storage room. “A bunch of us have gotten together to figure out what we can do, and how we can make more space,” Bob says. “We also need more lab space so if we could move the museum into a larger area and consolidate what we have from science and what we have from anthropology and archeology, we could have a really beautiful museum which has very valuable pieces and collections.” Professors from the Biology Department have written a letter petitioning the administration for a designated space to be turned into a proper museum.

To help keep some museum pieces in the public’s eye, Mainiero Building hallway display cases have been utilized. The displays in the cases come from two collections, and for the past several years have not rotated. “When it boils down to it, no one wants to put in the time to change it out,” Bob explains. He says that picking the pieces and filling the cabinets is hard work. One such outside display case shows highlights of the Robert N. Hutcheson Indian basket collection. The rare collection continues with more than 100 baskets inside the Jaeger space and represents more than 36 tribes from the United States and Canada. It is a space gobbler. With the display cabinet in the hallway, there are three display cases along the north wall in the Jaeger Museum. The baskets are also propped up on top of the cases. The more valuable hand-size baskets are stacked together in the safe that blocks an aisle.

Among the notable but hidden items is a fully assembled saber-toothed cat specimen. Four other unassembled but complete saber-toothed cat specimens are University owned, thanks to a historic donation by J.Z. Gilbert, who taught at Los Angeles High School and often brought students to excavate at the tar pits. Later, Gilbert became a part-time teacher at then La Verne College. The tiger stands atop an extra desk that partially blocks an aisle. When a six-foot person walks by, she is face-to-face with the Tiger. Tucked under its legs are other artifacts: pieces of glass that were bounced off the moon when they were hit by meteorites, an out-dated computer and an old fashioned calculator. Beneath, sits a cardboard box. “That box is a whole collection we only get out when the family comes to look at it and then put it back again because we just can’t safely display it ,” Bob explains. The significant collection is a range of African artifacts donated 10 years ago by former African missionaries. Ask to see the collection, and the large west wall desk is cleaned off. There, the pieces are laid out across the entire surface. This is one of the last collections Bob accepted, even though new offers come to him. “We have several people who are anxious to donate more stuff, but we can’t display it properly. That, I think, is motivation for trying to find the right spot.”

An unsure future

With Bob Neher retiring this year, a Biology Department faculty successor has yet to be found who will support the Museum. “I probably won’t completely leave; I’ll probably still stick around and do some work,” Bob says with a smile. Senior biology major Diego Villalobos is sad to see the Museum space not fulfilling its potential. “There is a lot of history that a lot of students are missing out on in the Museum. I feel that someone would have to be paid almost full-time to find out exactly how much history is in there,” Diego says, shaking his head in disappointment. “It has bugged me for awhile; it’s just an amazing space, and I’m surprised it is still not being utilized.”

Dr. Robert Neher, longtime curator of the Jaeger Museum and chairman of the Natural Science Division, sorts jars of animal samples. Neher retires this year, leaving the future of the museum uncertain. / photo by Hunter Cole

Proper museum care

The Jaeger Museum is that in name only. “There’s been no real effort on anyone’s part to learn curational standards to ensure that the materials are well maintained,” says Felicia Beardsley, associate dean of the College of Arts and Sciences. Beardsley, a noted archaeologist who has traveled and performed significant research with Pacific tribes, says, “The idea behind curation is to ensure the integrity of the item is maintained, that it doesn’t get subject to heat, insects, mold or any other kind of air pollutants.” The Jaeger space is not regulated by a separate air system. The room’s humidity is controlled, and the pieces can be exposed to any number of environmental risks. “You need to know what kinds of materials are in a collection, what are the range of materials that exist, what are the conditions,” Beardsley says. “Those materials then have to be stored in a specific type of environment.” Close inspection validates Beardsley’s concerns. A leopard pelt, which Bob affectionately refers to as the department’s mascot, is routinely petted by the few children and students who visit the collections. Sprawled over a cabinet that also serves as counter space for statues and other random stuffed animals, the Leopard’s ears have begun to flake off in pieces because of how often it is stroked.

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by Krista Franceschini
photography by Ryan Gann

Calling up the children, Pastor Linda Marshall begins the “young disciple” part of the service. This segment simplifies and adapts the day’s lesson for the younger audience. / photo by Ryan Gann

Just as they did 125 years ago, friends and family gathered March 2012 in support of their Church. And as it was before, it was in celebration and reaffirmation for the future. There was live music from the choir, food, games and fun. In 1887, the expectant mood was probably much the same as a group of Methodists, eking out an existence in the yet unpopulated town, met in a Lordsburg hotel to set the plans for their new church. Survival, perseverance and vision saw the church come to life and, after a location change, become as it is known today as the United Methodist Church located on D Street.

Along with its historic influence in shaping the city, the Church is famous because of the wedding scene in the cult classic “The Graduate.” The Hollywood camera lens has also captured the Church in “Bubble Boy,” “Bill and Ted’s Awesome Adventure” and “Wayne’s World 2.” It is not quiet fame: Time Magazine bestowed honors to the Church for being one of the “2010 Top 10 Movie Locations,” alongside classic film sites such as the Trevi Fountain where “La Dolce Vita” was filmed and Tiffany & Co., where “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” was captured. Church officials take the recognition in stride and say tourists from around the world regularly seek out the building as a photo op to re-enact their own graduate scene.

Nevertheless, the United Methodist Church is a landmark in the city of La Verne not only because of the movies filmed there, but because it was established before Lordsburg existed in name. According to Galen Beery, president of the La Verne Historical Society, in 1887 a handful of Methodists met in a hotel on Arrow Highway, called the Pioneer Building. About four months later, a land auction was held to set up the city of Lordsburg. Following, in the early 1890s, a wooden church was built on Third and F streets. In 1911, with high expectations, the Church was remodeled to accommodate its ever-growing population. The new and improved building held 600 people. With the increase in population after World War II, the United Methodist Church, thanks to a gracious contribution from orange rancher W. Scott Romick and his wife, moved to the west side of D Street, its present location. On the same property, across from Bonita High School, was a barn built in the early 1900s that the boy scouts took over and have called their troop meeting house ever since.

Don Kendrick, mayor of La Verne, historically was a member of the Methodist Church, attending at the Third and F street location. “A memory I have is Scott would stand on the steps at the front of the Church and give apples to every person in the Church every Christmas Eve; I remember this vividly and fondly,” Kendrick says. “The Methodist Church was the first and oldest church in La Verne; it was here before the Church of the Brethren,” Kendrick says. He returned to the Church during its March celebration to share his memories growing up with the Methodists and their transition to the new location. [When Kendrick married Gaynel Miller, he changed his church affiliation to the La Verne Church of the Brethren.]

Founding benefactor W. Scott Romick has passed into history, but one can see the fruit of his influence. The building has high ceilings and simple décor that sets the tone for a calming place of worship. Clean white walls blend to an enormous arching north facing window that frames the overflowing green beauty of trees that touch the blue sky behind Pastor Marshall as she delivers her sermons. A cross is affixed to window top center and presides over the altar, which is lined in tall white candles that match the pristine white ambiance of the high ceilings juxtaposed against the four walls. The building ambiance projects a wave of peace that seemingly flows over church members as they gather for services. They are friendly and greet newcomers, genuinely happy to see a new face. The Church is searching for new members; those who gather on Sundays average about 20. Still, there is variety in the attendees: young families with children, elderly men and women, all diverse in culture and from different walks of life. The church service feels more like a family gathering than a formal service.

Since June 2009, Pastor Linda Marshall has led as the fourth woman pastor at the La Verne United Methodist Church. She proudly says that 28 years ago she was the 75th woman in Southern California to be ordained to the larger denomination. “There has been a sociologically enormous change in 30 years, ironically around the time of “The Graduate,” Marshall says. Women pastors are now part of the norm in the Church. Pastor Marshall says she eats, sleeps and breathes for the United Methodist Church. Her husband is pastor at a Walnut Methodist Church.

The church offers multiple community services that include the Wesleyan Preschool, Boy Scout Troop 411, outreach projects and volunteer work with Inland Valley Hope Partners, Sowing Seeds For Life and Our House Shelter. The oldest sponsored relationship is with Boy Scout Troop 411, which has been meeting in the Church barn since its 1950 era construction. “One of the most significant parts of the Church is the Boy Scout troop. The troop has about 90 boys and 25 uniform assistant scout masters,” says Kendrick. “It is an unbelievable program for young boys.” He was part of the Boy Scout troop from 1959 until he left, at age 18, for the Navy in 1968.

Kendrick remembers being the first Boy Scout to walk in the barn during early church construction. He became junior assistant scoutmaster prior to the Navy and returned to the scout house in the late 1970s, to become scoutmaster in the early 1980s. Kendrick is now proud to be a part of each Eagle Scout Board of Review. Marsha Townsend is the current scoutmaster, a post she has held for 20 years. “The Church should be very proud of the contribution it is providing this city with the outstanding young men who are coming out of this scouting program,” he says.

The Methodists are a big part of city Fourth of July activities. In the morning, the Boy Scouts serve more than 1,200 pancake breakfasts; parade horses are staged on the Church lot. Church members begin their traditional barbecue when the parade marches by. Turkeys, wrapped in brown paper and cinched in twine are deep fried in six-foot deep barbecue pits. At parade end, people gather on the Church grounds to watch the night sky light up with fireworks after a fun-filled day.

Pastor Linda Marshall looks to the future and the sustainability of the Church through reaching out to the youth of La Verne and to University of La Verne students. Vicky Campos, a La Verne sophomore, underscores the pastor’s vision to connect. “There are many youth events like volleyball and a luau that are specifically for youth involvement. Pastor Marshall has told me to even bring friends to the service or to the events.” Campos is an active member of the Church choir. She became a part of the United Methodist Church during the height of its 125-year celebration. “It was really big; that’s when the choir was the biggest. There was energy, a lot of enthusiasm, people were happy the Church had been around for so long. The Methodist Church does much for its constituents 125 years counting by providing opportunities for them to reconnect and reaffirm their faith, beliefs and love.”

Continuing the celebration that started inside, the La Verne United Methodist Church congregation gathers monthly to honor its members’ birthdays. / photo by Ryan Gann

Celebrating the years

The 125-year celebration reached its height March 2012; yet, Pastor Linda Marshall explains that the celebration is on-going. “The prelude was the celebration of the 2011, 50th anniversary of the [new] building, held Valentine’s Day weekend.” Then, a homecoming for brides and grooms led to a reaffirmation of vows and the playing of the newlywed game, “which was really fun for the children to watch.” That day, Pastor Marshall punctuated her sermon with a tie in to “The Graduate”: “What is happily ever after?” The movie is always in the background here.

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This Granny Smith Apple and Goat Cheese Salad includes julienned chicken breast, granny smith apples, candied pecans, apple chips, and mixed greens tossed in champagne vinaigrette topped with goat cheese. The coffee mugs have all been handmade by Jolyn’s mother Jennifer Simison. / photo by Katherine Careaga

by Ashley Sourapas
photography by Katherine Careaga

Twisted Sage Cafe is a new restaurant that has the community coming back and taking a second look at this hidden gem of Americana cooking. The menu features fresh quality ingredients with a twist on classic Americana cuisine that has locals’ taste buds craving more. Try the featured crisp granny smith apple and goat cheese salad, topped with tender succulent julienne chicken breast and candied pecans, all tossed in a champagne vinaigrette. Couple it with the cranberry turkey sandwich, served on perfectly toasted wheat bread with cranberry chutney, alfalfa sprouts, melted havarti cheese and roasted garlic aioli. Menu items like this show why the Twisted Sage is a local favorite. One has to look closely for this restaurant, located on the famous Route 66 in San Dimas, tucked into a corporate environment among insurance agencies and accounting firms. The restaurant is worth the hunt; this is a small family restaurant run in a classy way.

Owner Jolyn Thompson is a graduate of the Bonita Unified School District. She may now live in San Dimas, walking distance from her restaurant, but she is at heart from the neighboring city. “I grew up in La Verne, I went to Roynon, Ramona and Bonita,” Jolyn says. She is a wife and mother of two young children. Daughter Chloe, 4 years old, and son Landon, 5 years old, love to help and be a part of the action. Both children attend La Verne Heights Elementary in La Verne. Husband Richard is the general manager and part owner. Jolyn has been working in the industry for 15 years. She graduated form the California School of Culinary Arts. “I can remember her graduating from culinary school in 2002; she has been determined since then to execute ‘our own place,’” says Richard. Before opening her cafe, Jolyn worked in Pasadena as well as at Angels Stadium, serving as a chef in the exclusive Diamond Club, a place where high profile customers come to dine rather than watch the baseball game. “I have cooked for Kobe Bryant and Robin Williams; not many can say that,” says Joyln.

The husband and wife duo each have their own roles to play at Twisted Sage. “My husband is the face, and I am the taste,” says Jolyn. Indeed, diners at Twisted Sage are able to taste Jolyn’s work while Richard’s input is appreciated visually. The atmosphere is raw, eco-friendly and artsy. Twisted Sage has hosted an open mic night in honor of the Invisible Children charity and hopes to do many more charitable events. Local artists showcase their art on the walls, giving customers the opportunity to invest in a one-of-a-kind piece. “My passions in the cafe are the aesthetics: paint, music, artwork, all around decor and trying to show our personality and beliefs through the design,” says Richard. He performs all the artistic touches, from the innovated ombre four leaf logo to the custom paint chalk specials board that on Oct. 25 featured “not your mom’s” biscuits-n-gravy, country fried steak-n-eggs, the buffalo chicken sandwich and french onion soup. The walls are colored forest green. Richard cleverly chose wood elements and refurbished railroad ties for decorations. The tables are all recycled stainless steel, adding a unique touch to the dining experience. “This is my ever-changing focus, to keep people stimulated and comfortable and coming back for more,” he says.

A green kitchen

The cafe and its employees are dedicated to “green” practices. The kitchen is equipped with energy efficient appliances; the “to go” containers are made of recycled paper and even the coffee mugs are handmade by Joyn’s mother Jennifer Simison. The cafe has an incredibly low waste percentage, with only about 5 percent of the supplies ultimately thrown out at week’s end. Jolyn has become resourceful in every way possible to reduce waste and stay “green.” Stale bread is revisioned into their famous creamy bread pudding. The butts of the bread loaves are thrown in the food processer and made into the golden crunch that tops a blend of brie, gruyere, sharp cheddar cheese and thick bacon pieces that make a cheese lover’s mouth water.

Owner and Chef Jolyn Thompson receives help from her children, Landon and Chloe Thompson, in creating a Granny Smith Apple and Goat Cheese Salad. Landon and Chloe can often be seen in the restaurant helping out. / photo by Katherine Careaga

The owners translate their goal of encouraging a slower pace of living, coupled with high quality fresh and healthy ingredients to their customers. Nevertheless, they feature “curbside to go” in 2.5 minutes if one calls ahead. Tables can be reserved. Order for 10 or more people, and they deliver for free. “We are hoping to slow down the pace of California and bring fresh quality food to the table,” says Jolyn. The couple see a troubling dining trend in the local area.“In the little bubble that we live in—San Dimas, La Verne, Claremont, Glendora—we live in a different world than what’s out there. We think Applebee’s, Red Robin and these places are what bring us the fresh quality food,“ Jolyn says. Think that? Wait until you try Jolyn’s cooking. The Cafe buys its ingredients from local farms and farmers markets whenever possible. The chefs are continuously cooking up innovative and comforting dishes.

The dining experience

It is breakfast time, and the smell of warm croissants, applewood smoked bacon and French toast fills the Twisted Sage Cafe. At noon, a different aroma hits you at the door: roasted turkey, chipotle aioli, sun dried tomatoes and heavenly soft ciabatta bread. Whether it is breakfast or lunch, the cafe offers a wide variety of unique items from sandwiches and wraps to salads and soups. The menu favorite is the turkey avocado sandwich. Though Jolyn loves that her customers come back for their favorites, she urges them to try something new; she guarantees that they will love it.

Along with their amazing food creations, Jolyn and Richard have enjoyed watching their business succeed. “I am proud of ourselves; we were able to come up with a plan and execute it in the area we grew up,” he says. “I would like to think of us as growing in incremental stages,” says Jolyn. “First we crawled, then walked; now we are almost running.” They know what their customers want; they are balancing that with an acceptable twist of classy gourmet food. “When someone says, what are these sprouts doing on my sandwich, I tell them ‘try it, you’ll like it,’” laughs Jolyn. Her gourmet twist is found in all her classic Americana cuisine. This family has stuck together not only serving great food but serving the community they live in. Try it. Indeed, you will like it.

Twisted Sage Cafe
433 E. Foothill Blvd., Suite 103, San Dimas
(909) 305-0724
www.twistedsagecafe.com

What does the Thompson family order?

Jolyn’s favorite sandwich is the cranberry turkey (noted in the story.)

Richard’s favorite is the BLT, served on toasted wheat bread topped with thick slices of applewood smoked bacon, crisp butter lettuce, ripe tomato and garlic aioli.

Landon’s favorite is the chicken caesar wrap served with juicy julienne chicken breast, romaine lettuce, homemade croutons, freshly grated parmesan cheese and caesar dressing, all wrapped up in a spinach tortilla.

Chloe’s favorite is the cheese-lover mac and cheese; however, she personally calls it the daddy mac and cheese. It is a blend of brie, gruyere, sharp cheddar cheese, bacon chunks and topped off with toasted breadcrumbs.

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Standing in the shadow of the University’s Vista La Verne residence hall, the Fruit Exchange Building is chained and derelict. In 1920, during the height of the citrus empire, it was built near a main entrance to La Verne to be a “showplace building.” / photo by Kelley Maggiulli

by Alex Forbess
photography by Kelley Maggiulli

The building stands forlornly now, its better years just a memory of a once golden time in La Verne, of a citrus empire that had its heart within its walls. Now, it stands as an eyesore—chained up, beaten, surrounded by ivy vines. Nature is in control here, pulling it away. But the memory is there of this once proud headquarters of the co-op—the La Verne Fruit Exchange building. Until the mid 1900s, the structure was center stage for one of the most powerful citrus organizations in Southern California. Now, the University of La Verne plans to demolish the building in 2013, hoping for better use of the land on the corner of Arrow Highway and D Street. The plan, says ULV’s Clive Houston-Brown, associate vice president of the Facility and Technology Services Department, calls for recreational space plus landscape design that he says will make for a great entry way for downtown La Verne.

Although the city of La Verne granted the University permission to demolish the building in 2006—when the ULV Master Plan was approved—the building still stubbornly remains, surrounded by debris from the Vista La Verne Residence Hall construction. Students reside in their new home feet away, and Chip West, senior director of central services and capital planning, says, “The perfect use of the land is to repurpose it for recreation.” He cites consensual support from the Athletics, Movement and Sports Science and Student Affairs departments, including senior management. Proponents for the building’s demolition say the structure had a long run. Following its half century as the citrus headquarters, the University gained ownership, and it served as departmental headquarters for speech, organizational leadership and, most recently, as a construction hub for the residence hall. For them, the building now lacks a future purpose. “It is an old, disgusting building that should have been taken down years ago,” West says.

Nevertheless, the building has its friends. Galen Beery, president of the La Verne Historical Society, believes this building has a viable future and hopes the University reconsiders. “There are some buildings that are worth saving, and the LV Fruit Exchange is one of them,” Beery says. “It has class.” In principle, the city of La Verne agrees. When the University offered to sell it to them during a Council meeting, Oct. 17, 2011, Hal G. Frederickson, community development director, said he had evaluated the structure to see whether it was worth saving. His answer: “Yes, but it will be very costly. There are so many issues with this building.” Adds Frederickson, “There are ADA [American Disability Act] deficiencies, and the lead paint has to be removed if this building were in public use.” The director estimates the renovation cost to get the La Verne Fruit Exchange to a habitable form would center on $500,000.

Shattered dreams

Beery steps back from the emotions related to the Oct. 17 Council meeting and sighs. “Every time a building gets demolished is another loss for the history of La Verne.” He believes that the building would be great as the new city of La Verne Chamber of Commerce, let alone as a museum displaying La Verne’s many artifacts that showcase the city’s history. Those artifacts are collecting dust in his house—so much La Verne history, now crammed into his small house and a storage facility nearby. He is a one-man depository for the city’s history. Just one corner of his house displays four original smudge pots, a handmade wooden butter paddle, cups and saucers with the orange motif, four silver trophies awarded for agricultural displays from the Los Angeles County Fair dating back to the 1920s; there is much, much more. “If this building is torn, no one now will know what it was,” Beery says. “It will just be an old picture.” Defeated from negotiating, Beery walked out of that October 2011 Council meeting only imagining what the University’s future plans were for the La Verne Fruit Exchange. At first, he never assumed the worst. He recalls that Frederickson rushed toward him after the meeting, telling him the city wished this building could be saved. “I was surprised,” Beery says. “Hal met me after and said, ‘I agree with you, but there is no money.’” Beery sadly acknowledges that the city’s loss of redevelopment funds sealed the building’s fate. In 2009, the state faced more than $20 billion in budget problems—debt—that was addressed with Gov. Jerry Brown’s February 2012 disbanding of city redevelopment agencies. Even though the city leaders thought they could raise restoration money before Brown’s act took place, the effort ended with disappointment. “That was our funding source for historical preservation,” Frederickson says. “After that announcement was made, the details to save that building disappeared. If we had all the money needed, the project would have been a reality.” Frederickson says the alternative is to raise renovation money through the allocation of general funds that support public services such as the Police and Fire departments. Frederickson knew this was untenable. “It would have been wonderful to preserve as a companion piece,” Frederickson says. “I wish we could have saved it because it has a lot of history. We had every intention, and I am glad that we tried.”

The La Verne Fruit Exchange was slated to be demolished before the fall 2012 semester started. But the execution of that plan was postponed because of the Vista construction. “The construction of Vista bought that building another year or two,” Frederickson says. With the city helpless, the fate of the LV Fruit Exchange rests on the University. Early suggestions for reuse included renovation into a classroom structure as a companion to the old Peyton lemon packing house directly across the street, which was newly reborn in 2000 as the Arts and Communications Building. Precedent for renovation also includes another renovated orange packing house that holds the University’s Central Service and Regional Campus Administration headquarters on the corner of E and First streets. The University has restored many of its old buildings, including, most recently, its century old Hanawalt House, which served as a president’s house for early-era administrators.

ULV’s mission: out with the old

The University has wanted to expand for quite some time, which is captured in its city approved master plan. University administrators are focused on accommodating the growing needs of the University, which saw an enrollment spike to 2,400 plus undergraduate students fall semester 2012. “This plan shows our intent of what we will do with the land,” Houston-Brown says. Indeed, the University has been on a tear recently, replacing the old with the new as it looks to its future. Recent casualties include its old gym, razed for Campus Center construction in 2007, and its historic Ben Hines Baseball Field, bulldozed summer 2011 and paved over as parking lot “D.” Now its attention is focused on the LV Fruit Exchange. Tentative plans call for a basketball court on one corner, a volleyball court on another other, a few patches of grass and a barbecue pit. “Our vision was to have it [the land] as a recreational space for our students,” says Loretta Rahmani, dean of student affairs. “We were searching for a place where students can have a pick-up game.” The Movement and Sports Science Department endorses the idea of recreational space. “We are gridlocked, and we have to maximize with what we have,” says Paul Alvarez, athletic training and education program director, adding, “MSS is not just to be taught in class. The field is our laboratory.” Athletic Director Julie Kline believes also that having a general recreational space will bring several benefits to the University. “This can serve as a point of engagement for our students,” Kline says. “Students are into fitness and health now more than ever.”

West says the building is doomed for other reasons. “It is reinforced with unreinforced masonry block. If an earthquake were to occur, that building will be the first to go. It is not structurally safe.” He notes that the building contains high levels of asbestos, a common building material until 1989, according to the Environmental Protection Agency. Asbestos can cause lung disease and ultimately cancer if inhaled over time. However, when properly contained, asbestos risk is reduced. Because of the heightened asbestos danger in the building, West says he advocated for the Educational Administration faculty and staff removal about two years ago to their new home in Leo Hall on the corner of D and Second streets.

Beery does not believe this is an excuse for the University to tear down a piece of history. From his experience, he says that asbestos can be contained with a flick from the wrist. “We can put a layer of sealant paint to further contain it,” Beery says. With the amount of asbestos in the La Verne Fruit Exchange, West says more extreme measures need to be taken by professionals. However, the University has used containment measures in its historical buildings, including Founders Hall. For example, the wall tile in the Founders Hall faculty office of Richard Gelm, professor of political science, is encapsulated with a thin coating that holds the asbestos in check. “Even with this coating, you can still see the tiles as if they are popping out,” he says. “I prefer the asbestos not being here, but I am not losing sleep over it,” Gelm says. Abatement, a treatment that rids or controls asbestos, is the norm in some University buildings. West says the University has continuously been removing asbestos from Founders Hall, which is costly.

As for possible building renovation of the La Verne Fruit Exchange Building, West says, “The University intends not to throw money on that dump. We want to maximize every dollar of the student’s tuition.” Plans call for the building’s demolition fall 2013. Just to raze the building is costly. West says asbestos removal before demolition is $30,000. Actual demolition will add another $50,000. Additional costs will come with other environmental fees.

Beery believes the structure still has potential and could be saved if the University deeded it to the Historical Society. He feels he could raise the funds and garner community support to resurrect it both as a museum and as a future Chamber of Commerce site. West’s response, “Has he actually stepped in that building?” Inside the building, one has to squint hard to see a future. Construction debris and hard helmets litter the floor. Copper from the exposed wires and the electrical circuits captures the eye. West utters disgust at the building’s condition and scuffs at any future use for the University, let alone for the city. To him, this is just an empty tomb. West says the University plans to move forward. He wonders why the University is thought of as a power-grabbing giant. “Why do people think, ‘Oh, [the University] has this power, and they will demolish everything,’” West says. “We have saved more buildings than demolished. Everyone had this dream that this would be a great building,” West says. “That will never be.”

In need of a makeover, the Fruit Exchange Building has fallen far from its best days. An inside peek reveals peeling wallpaper and exposed wires.The area near the door frame was once a patio area but is now an extension to the building. / photo by Kelley Maggiulli

‘Built to be a showplace’

photo by Kelley Maggiulli

Galen Beery, city of La Verne historian, in his heart has not given up his repurposing plans for the historic former Fruit Exchange structure. Where some may see an old failing building, he sees the vision of a 93-year-old structure capturing the glory years of the La Verne Orange Association and Lemon Growers Association. The city of La Verne was once a citrus utopia, the stage for one of the most successful and prestigious citrus industries in California. They wanted a headquarters building that matched that prestige. The organization’s initial leadership met and brainstormed on where the headquarters should be placed: ”somewhere convenient, nearby and prominent.” Historical records also note that the Fruit Exchange building was deliberately placed near a main entrance to downtown La Verne because this was to be a “showplace building.” They found their place on the north side of the rail tracks at Arrow Highway and D Street. In 1920, the La Verne Fruit Exchange Building was constructed. The book, “The History of Pomona Valley,” recounts a review of the building. “This building was built to the highest prestige. The [La Verne Fruit Exchange Building] contains four handsome rooms with a large directors room in connection. The mission style has been followed in the architecture, the building being constructed of brick, plastered covered over. In the interior the woodwork is of mahogany. D.G. Arbuthnot, manager of the La Verne Association, is highly pleased with the new building.”

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by Brian Velez
photography by Mitchell Aleman

Avo Kechichian vividly remembers sitting on the Founders Hall stairs his first day at La Verne, pondering the culture changes he faced as a foreign student from Lebanon and thinking, “Did I make the right decision?” / photo by Mitchell Aleman

Newly appointed University of La Verne vice president of finance Avedis Kechichian sits at his desk on the second floor of Woody Hall, absorbed in an Excel page of numbers. Soft morning light enters through the window behind his computer monitor. Avo (as he is known in University circles) is weighing tough financial requests that will transform the University while keeping the school honest within its total $158.5 million annual budget. And he continually is focused on building La Verne’s $40 million endowment. Avo’s new job is layered onto his existing title of University treasurer. He answers to the Board of Trustees and the president. He is the financial interpreter of the vision set forth by the new University strategic plan. This plan will aim and restructure the school so that by the year 2020 it will be convincingly nationally recognized while continuing to provide quality academic services to its students. Avo holds this important financial role in the University’s future. It is a challenge he embraces with zeal.

From Lebanon to La Verne

Avo is the son of a shoe factory supervisor and stay-at-home mom. He was born in 1958 in Bourdj Hamoud, Lebanon, to a family with two sisters. His was a stable, normal family life until 1975. Then all that changed. Avo pauses and stares into space at the mention of the Lebanese Civil War. “I had a very happy childhood until the Civil War broke out. Sometimes, we couldn’t go to school because there were snipers on the street.” A sly grin crosses his face, and he mocks his once-felt terror. “When we had a test at school, we wanted snipers on the street.” The Lebanese Civil War lasted for 15 years and grew from political party and religious conflicts. Avo is Armenian; from the beginning, he says, the Armenians living in Lebanon chose to not be involved in the conflict. “Armenians, as a minority in Lebanon, tried to stay neutral in the Civil War. I think that was the right decision by our leadership.”

Starting with World War I, his family’s life story has been shaped by wars and political strife. As a result, the four generations of Avo’s family were each born in a different country: his grandfather in western Armenia (Turkey), his father in Syria (where his grandparents first fled in 1915 during the Armenian genocide), Avo in Lebanon and his children in the United States.

The family holds a 50 Lyria promisory note to reclaim the grandparents’ land, house and furnishings in western Armenia if Turkey ever provides restitution to genocide victims. “My grandfather had acres and acres of orchards. Before fleeing for his life, he went to city hall and gained a note saying he could reclaim his property.

When the family arrived in Lebanon, they found it was welcoming to Armenians “who were forced out of Turkey,” says Avo. “We wanted to be thankful to the Lebanese people for inviting us in, so we didn’t want to be involved in the Civil War; we wanted to be contributing citizens.”

Wearing and waving the colors of soccer authority on a San Dimas High School field, Avo referees a AYSO Region 112 game. As an AAIC student, he played on the La Verne soccer team, then coached by John Gingrich, former Arts and Sciences dean. / photo by Mitchell Aleman

In 1977, he was 18 years old, and Lebanon was two years into its conflict. Nevertheless, Avo was focusing on his future following high school. He was determined to attend college, for education was important to his family. “It was always my father’s dream that if he ever formed a family and his kids wanted to go to school, he would sacrifice everything and anything to make sure we were able to go to school.” Neither of Avo’s parents had a high school education; his father Nazareth was not able to attend school yet pushed for his children to be educated to the college level. “My grandparents could not afford to send my parents to school; they were forced to work, and that was something that had always bothered my father.” Avo applied to three colleges. “I got accepted by all the institutions, but my parents did not want me to attend the Armenian University of Beirut because it was on the other side of town; they were worried about the war.” Avo’s other options were to attend school in Armenia or the United States. “The discussion I remember with my father sitting around the table was, ‘Where do you want to go? Armenia [The University of Yerevan, USSR] or the USA?’” At that table, Avo says he chose to attend the American Armenian International College (AAIC), the only Armenian college in the United States, open for one year and sharing its accreditation umbrella with the University of La Verne.

Finding a job to pay his tuition

Avo traveled by plane for two days (with layovers) and landed in Los Angeles Sept. 2, 1977, with only his clothes and not much else. “I had $300,” he remembers, now with a smile. “I bought lunch at a hamburger place, and I said after that, ‘Oh, this isn’t going to last me too long; I need to find a job.’” He laughs at his once desperate thought. Although Avo received limited financial help from AAIC and his parents, he also held many jobs to pay the tuition. “I’m an 18 year old kid; I had no skills. I worked at a gas station; it was in Covina.” His three-year stint at the gas station ended abruptly when it went up in flames, with Avo inside. The night before the station caught fire, the gas station owner was cleaning and left a bucket of flammable liquid next to the water heater. “The next morning, when I came in to open the gas station, I tried to move the bucket out of the way. The fluid that was in it leaked and went under the water heater,” says Avo. “I was in the fire. I had to run out. It was a scary moment.” Following, Avo held jobs vacuuming the floor of the ULV library every night and worked at a carpet store in Claremont. Although he now smiles as he reminisces about past jobs, one in particular surfaces memories of a young man self conscious of how he was seen in his new country. “One of the jobs I had on campus was picking up trash. I would start as early as I could in the morning.” Every weekday, Avo would walk the ULV campus at 6 a.m. with a trash picking tool. “I would try to do it as early as possible to not have other students see me do that. At the time, being young and all that I felt ashamed, but I needed the job so I did it.” He says it took him some time to feel comfortable in his new country.

It was also tough for Avo’s family to deal with their only son and brother being so far away. “It was difficult, especially for my parents; it was hard to see my parents like this, especially my mom crying all the time,” says Ani Kechichian, Avo’s youngest sister. Ani’s eyes tear up with the memory. She pauses while remembering life in Lebanon with her older brother being in the United States, then describes their mother’s ritual after talking to Avo on the phone. “When we hung up the phone, it was always emotional, especially for my mom; she used to smoke at the time, and the first thing she would do is get a cigarette and stare out the window and smoke and cry.” Both of Avo’s parents and two sisters would eventually emigrate to the United States through a work visa his father received in 1985. Presently, the Kechichian family lives in the Southern California area (his dad passed in 1995).

Avo says that the cultural difference between the two countries seemed at first overwhelming. “I remember sitting at the steps of Founders Hall and wondering whether I made the right decision. I felt lonely. I felt that I didn’t know anyone; it was one of those weird feelings.” It also took Avo some time to get used to a country not being at war. “Coming from Lebanon where we were in the midst of a Civil War—lawlessness everywhere, trash everywhere, getting used to gunfire—and all of a sudden there’s this calmness about La Verne. I had a hard time sleeping at night because I didn’t hear gunfire. Initially, it was very tough trying to get used to being here, but after a while I got used to it.” After graduating with a degree in business administration from both AAIC and ULV in 1985 (AAIC students earned two diplomas), he was offered an accounting job at AAIC. After about one year, Avo was asked to, in his words, “jump ship” by Gordon Whitby, then vice president of administration and finance and a former University of La Verne Board of Trustee member. He accepted the job as payroll manager for ULV. It was a fortunate decision, for AAIC closed its doors in 1992.

On his office wall is the Armenian alphabet, created to translate the Bible. There are no cuss words in Armenian. One must use another language to do that. He glances at it and recites it with a grin. Avo is proud of being Armenian and embraces his culture. His first cousin, Aram I, is head of the Armenian Church. Based in Lebanon, he is Catholicos for all Armenians living abroad.

Sometimes cultural traditions were problematic in issues of the heart. But it was no match for his love toward his wife. Avo met Michelle in the early ‘90s when she was an undergraduate student at ULV, and he worked in the payroll department. She was with another student and was directed to Avo’s office to resolve a payment issue. That was the first time Avo saw Michelle. “I remember telling her, ‘Why don’t we go out to lunch?’ And that was it. I never saw her again for another six months.” Six months later, Avo ran in to Michelle again. “I said, ‘What happened to that lunch?’ ‘Well, you never called me,’” replied Michelle. That was the beginning of their relationship. Avo and Michelle dated for six years before marrying, even though Avo had been hesitant because of his Armenian culture. “I told her we were not getting married; I’m going to marry an Armenian girl. Love in this case trumped nationality, I guess,” says Avo. “Within the first three months of dating him, I knew in my mind and in my heart—this man, his character, his values—he was someone I could spend the rest of my life with,” says Michelle. She has come to embrace Avo’s culture and says she has a greater understanding of why families would want members to marry within the same religion or ethnicity for a fear of losing a person’s history or sense of identity. Michelle says she understands that Avo wanted to have a partner in his life with strong family values. Life is in session for them now, with their two children Chris, 13, and Alex, 11. Avo jumps readily into school and sports functions. Building on his college days when he was on the La Verne Men’s Soccer team, he leads as a referee for youth soccer. Michelle is an academic adviser and an adjunct professor for the ULV College of Business and Public Management. Michelle says that Avo and his character are the walking example of ULV. He is “someone who values life long-learning, community diversity, community engagement, all of those things; it’s the University of La Verne: This is my husband.”

From the second floor of Woody Hall, above a campus where he once picked trash and vacuumed floors, Avo now leads as an integral part of the ULV administration. He is a man who traveled halfway around the world and arrived at a University that compliments his values. In turn, Avo dedicates his life to the institution. “It’s like I have this love affair with La Verne. I’ve traveled, and no matter where I go, I still end up back in La Verne.”

Surrounded by momentos of his family and Armenian culture, Avo leads as vice president from his office on the second floor of Woody Hall. / photo by Mitchell Aleman

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by Grace Casale

Adam Ferreras, a sophomore business major, pulls up in his gray Dodge Dakota. It is 9:05 a.m., his first class starts in five minutes, and he is at the intersection of Third and E streets. He reaches into the truck bed and pulls out his Active skateboard. He slings on his backpack and heads straight for Founders Hall. “I don’t want to use the parking lot so I ride my skateboard,” Ferreras says. He is putting a skill learned in his teens to good commuter use. “I prefer the board over the bike.” For the brief solo ride, Ferreras tunes into his own music. “I haven’t used my board in years but riding on campus has made me get back into it and love riding again.”

Affordable, green, healthy, time efficient, cool, calming, a great way to meet people and just pure fun. This is what longboarding and skateboarding are all about. The number of students who ride on campus rises each year and, therefore, boarding is not only a way of transportation but has become its own campus culture. “Boarding is such an awesome way to get around on campus,” says Brittany Hines, a recent La Verne graduate. Boarding saves students time. Instead of searching for a parking spot, they can ride straight to class, and, instead of locking up bikes, they can bring their board right into class. Boarding saves students money. Parking permits are not a worry; for those who purely use the boards for point-to-point transportation, gas is not in the money equation.

Both types of boards are in play at La Verne. Skateboards are geared toward tricks but can be used for transportation. Longboards are best suited for cruising. On campus, longboards are the commuter choice. Nevertheless, both enter riders into a common culture and atmosphere. Board pricing varies between $100 to $300, significantly less than most bikes. Then there are penny boards, which average $100 and are another popular choice for those riding just on the smooth campus pavement. In the competitive skating world, longboards are for those who push the limit and do extreme downhill riding. They also make a great choice for riding off campus because of their overall stability, carving ease, wider base and greater speed. For those making a choice between a bicycle or longboard, the board wins when it comes to security. One can heft the board to class and tuck it under a chair.

Positives of boarding

Students looking to go green and be healthy find a match with boards. Plus, boarding on campus is a great way to meet people. Jovannie Slusher and his friends ride on campus to classes. In between, they ride together to grab food. “I got a board; then all my friends started getting them so we could ride together,” says Slusher, a senior, who lives at La Verne Vista. “I started riding because I saw others riding, and it seemed super convenient and fun to do.” Most students have a Sector9 longboard, available at local skate shops. Slusher notices many more males riding boards than females, although, there are more women then he expected (he knows about three himself). Slusher and his close friends meet up to ride on occasion for fun rides, and he says he uses his board to get everywhere. “I don’t like walking anymore, and if I’m walking, it’s only because something is wrong with my board, and I did not have time to fix it.”

La Verne senior Cooper Durette lives off campus in adjoining Pomona and sometimes rides a Creature Skateboard about one mile to school. His lifestyle and mentality when he rides is as if he is surfing. “Its like I’m surfing the streets,” Durette says. He is part of the waterpolo team and says most of his teammates ride, either with boards or bikes, on campus to practice and really anywhere. Riding on campus is nice because the ground is smooth and perfect for cruising. “Push don’t pollute,” Durette says.

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